A poem wot I rote ... well, almost

"When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, 
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything."
- Shakespeare (Sonnets - XCVIII)

Campus is a riot of carpets of daisies, buttercups and assorted wild flowers,  all with their faces basking in brilliant sunshine on a day when the sky was cobalt blue and a sweet Spring breeze blew, well, I just had to break out in verse - wouldn't you?  Trouble is, now I am home, I can't remember how it went. So here's the first stanza of 'Spring Poem' wot Gerard Manley Hopkins rote instead. It's a bit better than mine was anyway.

"Nothing is so beautiful as Spring – 
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;          
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush          
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring          
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; 
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush          
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush          
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling."
 
- Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)